Unleashed: The Deepest Fears Lie Within (Secrets of the Makai) (16 page)

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the boy was still with him, barely able to tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. “Are you there?”

How would he protect the kid if he couldn’t see straight? He guessed wrong on which trees were real and recognized the trail to the cliff house on Dorian’s island.
Get a grip,
he said to himself, testing the nearest tree to see if he could lean against it.

The kid came into focus, keeping his usual distance.

“Sorry.” Tristan rested his head against a solid tree, determined not to lie down. He had to stay awake until they were both safe. “I’m having some problems, but we need to keep moving, okay?”

The boy didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

“If we get separated—” Tristan sucked in a breath as darkness swallowed the area. Dorian stared at him with tears in her eyes. Large raindrops were washing away the mud on her beautiful face. He blinked hard, pushing the memory away. “I won’t be able to find you.”

Tristan turned before the boy might see the fear in his eyes. He was in no condition to do anything if the boy actually needed him. Their best chance would be to find a house, or someone who knew their way around.

He picked up the pace, embracing the stabs of slicing thorns to keep him in the present. Skin-deep pain wasn’t enough to keep his mind from shifting. His memories would surely get him and the boy killed.

15
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N
O
L
IGHT AT THE
E
ND
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TRISTAN PLOWED THROUGH THE TALL GRASS along the creek’s edge. Images and voices overlapped each other, creating a transparent, chaos-clouded reality. He was in sensory overload, with everything too scrambled to keep separate.

He concentrated on trees that didn’t flash, following the consistent sound of water flowing on his right.

The back of a building came into view, with an A-framed roof and an immense field of grass. Grumpy’s.

Tristan followed the creek until it became the waterfall, bringing the puddle below into focus. The man’s voice from the boat on the lake repeated on an endless track.
Everyone knows how to swim.

The man meant nothing, but he felt the need to prove he could swim, the need to prove he hadn’t grown up to be weak and helpless. But maybe he had. There were too many fears keeping him from being himself. He’d never fit in if he didn’t start facing a few.

The water fell effortlessly over the ledge, so easy and natural.

He should wait until there were other people around, in case he couldn’t make it out, or somehow missed the current that had carried him to safety the first time.

But this was something he needed to prove to himself, not to a crowd.

Tristan shut his eyes, letting images of schoolboy pranks override the puddle. A cry echoed overhead, drawing his gaze upward to see the flight of his falcon, gliding to a nearby branch.

Now you come,
Tristan thought in disgust, unsure if the bird was real or imagined.

“What are you doing out here?” Landon stood beside him, taking in the peaceful setting with his hands clasped behind his back. “I figured you’d be sleeping in.”

Tristan felt calmer at the edge, having made a decision. There was no way to explain what he was going through.

“I was following your falcon,” Landon continued, breaking the awkward silence. “It is the same one, isn’t it?”

Tristan looked for the bird, but it had flown away. He nodded, seeing it as a sign that Landon could be trusted. “Do I have to stay in Darnell?”

“Why would you want to go?” Landon studied Tristan, his face tightening to a serious frown. Only then did Tristan notice how torn up his arms had become, caked with dried blood. “What happened?”

“I’m not doing well here.” His voice trembled. He focused on the last place he’d seen the falcon, hoping Landon wouldn’t hear so much weakness in his voice. “I like Shaely and Angelina and Eleonora, and you guys of course, but I just can’t handle things. I don’t know where to go, but there’s no way I can stay.”

“We wouldn’t force you to stay against your will, but...don’t you like the cabin?”

“It’s not the cabin. It’s Donovan.” There was no other way to explain.

“There was a meeting this morning. Donovan resigned.”

“Good riddance.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t remember—” The tears he’d been holding back finally ran down his cheeks. Who cared if Landon thought he was a big crybaby?

He sat down and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“One minute we were all staring at the fire, he was talking about who knows what, and the next thing I know, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t ask why. I don’t know what he did, but something’s seriously wrong in my head. I can’t see straight or think straight. Every single little memory keeps popping up in my head, things I’d forgotten...I didn’t know half of it existed.”

Landon glanced across the creek, then back to Tristan.

“He wanted me to learn something. But I—I learned I could’ve prevented my father’s death. I would have had an entirely different life if I would’ve said something. It’s
my
fault he’s dead. What was the point of making me remember that?”

Landon stared wide-eyed and speechless.

“My mother told me exactly how things were about to change. My father had plans to take me away from her. She must have figured out he was leaving. I knew there’d be something wrong with the car and I was too self-centered to follow it though and say something.

“You were a baby,” Landon said. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“If I’d used words, he would’ve believed me. But I kept my mouth shut! Why didn’t I speak?” Tristan clenched his tangled hair in his fists. “Something’s wrong with me. I see things that look real, over and over, and even though I know they happened a long time ago, I can’t be sure what the current reality is. But my dad...he should be alive, not me.”

“You can’t hold yourself responsible for him. You were too young.”

“I know it’s not logical, I really do. That’s why I’m jumping.”

“Jump? Now? You can’t swim.”

“I drowned when I was young.” Tristan looked up at Landon, willing him to see his pain and torment. “I remember the silence. Peaceful and calm. That’s all I want—peace. And I believe it’s in the water with every fiber of my being.”

Landon shook his head. His mouth opened, but no words came.

“I can help you.”

Tristan spun to his feet, facing the dark voice of his nightmares. Donovan. “No way.” He shook his head, backing toward the cliff.

“I can’t do it, Tristan,” Landon said. “Whatever’s going on is definitely beyond what I know.”

“It will be done quickly,” Donovan said.

“No.” Tristan glanced behind him to judge the distance to the cliff. He only had four, maybe five feet to go. “I won’t let you!” Tristan looked to Landon for protection, feeling small and childish for his cowardly behavior. “He can’t do this, can he?” The same suffocating pressure squeezed his body, dropping him breathless to his knees.

Tristan squeezed his eyes shut. How could he fight something he couldn’t see? He inched his way toward the edge of the cliff, determined to end his suffering on his own terms, shielding himself with everything he could think of.

Steel, fire, ice, concrete a mile thick.

“Keep him still,” Donovan ordered.

Tristan locked eyes with Landon. Whose side would he choose? His heart sank with the realization. Landon owed Donovan much more than he owed him. Tristan turned away, lunging for the cliff as Landon grabbed hold of him from behind, wrapping his arms around his chest.

“I’m sorry, Tristan. I’m not betraying you, I promise.”

Tristan fought harder to break Landon’s restraining hold.

He’d never survive anywhere if he couldn’t trust anyone. Even the falcon had led him to believe Landon was trustworthy. “Don’t let him do this.” Boulders fell over his head. He knew it was just a memory, but his need to survive kicked in and he screamed, almost breaking free.

“Fight him, Landon,” Donovan demanded. “Knowing his emotions doesn’t make them yours.”

“You don’t understand!” Tristan stopped struggling, his strength and will to fight depleting by the second. “I can’t take this craziness anymore. Let me go already, or just kill me and get it over with.”

“Close your eyes,” Landon said. “I won’t leave you.”

Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, determined to keep his shields strong. All the tension seemed to melt into the ground, or into Landon, he wasn’t sure which.

“It’s why I’m leaving,” Donovan said.

“He’s been like this all night?”

“Perhaps. He did something I didn’t expect, and it got out of control.”

“So you did this to him on purpose?”

“Something about him brings forth an aggressive instinct that I can’t explain. I felt it at Alvi’s little gathering and when he arrived for class. Even now. The only thing keeping him alive is the fact that I promised Alpheus I wouldn’t kill him without consent. But I’m telling you, he’s hiding something in that guise of naive innocence, and I must say it’s hidden well....

“In my quest to unravel this strange quality about him, I merely added myself to the list of unfortunate experiences. I’ve lost a certain perspective with you young people and for that, I am truly sorry. But this, I did not consider this sort of ongoing reaction to my investigation.”

“We can relocate him,” Landon said, tightening his grip around Tristan’s arms and chest.

“It’s better for everyone if he remains here. I’ll simply stay away from him. He won’t remember what happened.”

Tristan felt the poncho cover him like a blanket and relaxed against the instant warmth of it, suddenly uninterested in the conversation and mentally drifting away.

“But...what if all these memory wipes are making him less stable? How many times—”

“I’m merely putting memories where he won’t find them.”

“Won’t he wonder about all these cuts and scrapes? How can we hide—” Landon stopped speaking. The only thing remaining on Tristan’s flesh was dried blood; the wounds had healed. “How can that be?”

“It gets more interesting than that. I swear his skull cracked, along with a few ribs. Yet, I find no evidence of that fact.”

They both remained silent for a brief time. Tristan couldn’t open his eyes.

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as required. One more thing. There’s a boy I need you to research. Jessie had him cornered until Tristan came along. He’s watching us now, standing by the creek at the tree line.”

Tristan felt Landon’s body shift toward the creek. Not the boy! He’d hoped the child had been able to get away, but now he was in more danger than ever.

Tristan tried to fight, but not one single muscle would twitch.

“Tristan is not permitted to leave these grounds without an escort. Take him home and convince him to stay if he remembers the desire to flee. And while I would always caution you against fully trusting anyone, he could use a friend.”

An icy grip cooled his cheeks, words echoed in his head. A command.
Open your eyes.

Tristan’s eyelids fluttered open against his will, locking on eyes with blue-brown streaks that mirrored his own.
You will not recall anything from meeting Travis and Henry on the trail to right this second. History class is cancelled.

16
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T
HE
T
RUTH
H
URTS
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SOMETHING RAPPED AGAINST Tristan’s door. His eyes opened halfway and the resemblance of “come in” fell from his lips, flat against his pillow.

When the knocking grew more impatient, he shuffled toward the door, keeping the thick blanket wrapped around himself, wondering why Landon and Victor couldn’t just make his life easy and let themselves in.

He shaded his eyes from the full force of daylight, surprised to see a woman standing on his porch. He stared with a vacant expression until her name popped into his head: Angelina.

“Hi,” Tristan said, unsure why she would come to his house, embarrassed he couldn’t think of her name sooner. He took a step back, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

“I only have a minute.” Angelina scowled at him. “You haven’t been asleep all day, have you?”

Tristan pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He didn’t dare test the state of his hair. “I’m—” His mind went blank and he leaned out of reach when she attempted to feel his forehead.

“You missed class—I’ve just come from there.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Did you at least do your homework before staying out all night?”

Was he out all night? “Homework. Yes.” Tristan made his way to the table with the blanket dragging behind him, glad he could at least remember where he left the crayon drawing. He handed over the scene of what Darnell might’ve looked like in its prime, centered on one building.